Grand Finale
by JoeMerl
Summary: Dipper never figured out how to communicate with Mabel during the events of "Sock Opera." One-shot, AU. Based on Bill's note in "Journal 3."


**Author's Notes:** My first _Gravity Falls_ fanfic! I promise that my next one won't be quite so depressing.

* * *

A pair of twelve-year-old feet rocked back and forth on the railing of the water tower; their current owner giggled, windmilling his arms to keep himself balanced. Then he gave a maniacal grin, leaned forward—the shoes slipped—

"HA-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!"

"NOOOO! NO NO NO NO NO—"

Dipper flew down, acting on instinct, and spread his arms to try and catch his falling body. It was useless, of course—he passed right through himself, still falling, Bill's crazy laughter screeching from his mouth—

Dipper closed his eyes, covered them, and heard the sickening _CRACK!_ as his body hit the ground.

He opened his eyes. For a few seconds he could only stare at the horrifying sight, and then without thinking flew to the ground, once again trying to rejoin himself, but it wasn't—

"Sorry, Pine Tree," said a voice, and Dipper whirled around to see Bill Cipher, back in his ridiculous triangle form, hovering in the air above him. "No use trying to get back into _that_ broken old thing! What a ripoff—I barely felt _any_ thing. Guess I should have opted for feet-first after all, huh?"

"You—this can't—there has to be some way that I—I can..."

Bill laughed. "Good luck with that! You're trapped in the Mindscape forever now—just like me! Or maybe not, if I play my cards right. Anyway, gotta run! See ya in the obituaries, kid!"

And with that, he vanished, leaving Dipper alone to stare down in terror at the forest floor below.

"No," he whispered again.

* * *

Mabel was having a blast at the wrap party. Her sock-puppet opera had gone off without a hitch, that gorgeous hunk Gabe had invited her to talk about it on a drive in his biscotti the next day, and Dipper had finally stopped bugging her about helping with the Author's laptop. She had signed about ten autographs and was still laughing with Candy and Grenda over mini-quiches as the last of the audience trickled out of the theater.

"What do you say we celebrate by going out for pizza? Stan's treat!" Wendy suggested.

Stan ignored her, ruffling Mabel's hair but frowning as he looked around the stage. "Where'd your brother run off to? I haven't seen him since your _thing_ ended."

"I think he went back to the dressing room to change," Grenda said, jerking her thumb.

"That was a while ago..."

"I'll get him!" Mabel said cheerfully, running backstage.

Dipper's dressing room door was already open; to Mabel's surprise, a strong, pungent odor was leaking out into the hallway. Peeking inside, she was surprised to see not only Dipper's normal clothes littering the floor, but large amounts of torn-up, yellowed paper. Even more shocking was the smoke coming from the trashcan.

"What the—OW HOT!" she said, dropping the burning metal. Using her sleeves, she grabbed the bin and turned it upside down; out came a small flurry of ashes, along with a blackened something that it took Mabel a moment to identify: the covers and spine of a now pageless book.

Mabel slowly bent down and scooped up some of the yellowed paper scraps from the floor; the writing and pictures that she could make out were instantly recognizable. "Is this...Dipper's journal?" She felt a chill crawling up her spine. "Dipper?! DIPPER?!"

She ran back to the others, and soon they were searching the entire building. There were no other signs of Dipper anywhere.

"Could he have gone back to the Mystery Shack without us?" Wendy wondered, after looking through all of the set pieces for the second time.

"But why would he rip apart his journal?! He _loves_ that thing!"

Before anyone could answer, they heard the sound of a door opening, unnaturally loud in the empty theater. Everybody turned, expecting to see Dipper, but instead Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland shuffled in. The latter had his hat off and was turning it uncomfortably in his hands.

"Mr. Pines?" Blubs said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. "We need to talk to you."

Stan, who had been on his hands and knees looking under the chairs, climbed slowly to his feet. "What's the matter?" he said, with a humorless chuckle. "Don't tell me the kid ran off and held up a gas station or something?"

Blubs didn't answer, and though they couldn't see his eyes, he turned slightly to survey Mabel and the others who were standing on the stage. "Let's go talk outside," he said. And then, "You might need to come with us for a few minutes. There's something we need your help with."

* * *

Dipper couldn't watch; he could only stare at the floor, listening.

"That can't be right. It just can't!"

"I saw him myself," said Stan, his voice hollow, dead. "They needed my...you know, official I.D. He was still wearing his costume and everything."

"But what was he doing on top of the water tower?! It doesn't make _sense,_ Mr. Pines!"

"Don't you get it, Soos?! He went up there to...to do this."

"But...why?"

There was no answer.

"This can't be happening," Wendy repeated.

"What...what are we supposed to tell Mabel?"

Dipper heard a sob from outside the kitchen, then the sounds of chairs scraping, followed by running.

"Mabel?! Mabel honey, come back!"

Dipper put his face in his hands and moaned.

* * *

"Mabel? Mabel, are you up here?"

Stan made his way slowly into the attic bedroom. He cast a glance over to Dipper's side, with his particle board on the wall and books covering the nightstand, and quickly turned away; instead he focused on his great-niece, who was kneeling in front of the window, hugging something to her chest.

"The laptop..." she murmured. "But why is it broken...?"

"Wh—what are you talking about, sweetheart?"

Stan knelt beside her as Mabel held out the broken computer. "Dipper was working on this. But now it's all smashed-up. Did he break it by accident?"

"I...I don't know."

Mabel hugged the laptop tighter. "He kept asking me to help him with this," she said, her voice getting thick. "Maybe...maybe if I'd done like I promised, we could have solved this already...and he wouldn't have—"

" _Whoa, whoa, WHOA._ Stop right there, kid," Stan said, lifting Mabel's face toward him so that he could give her his most serious look. "Now you listen, and you listen good. We don't know what happened with your brother, but—"

" _You said it yourself!_ " Mabel screamed with sudden fury. "You said he jumped off the water tower on purpose! _Why else would he do that?!_ "

"I—I know what I said, but—look, whatever happened—whatever reason he...did this...it is _not_ your fault, you hear me?! That boy loved you more than anything. Certainly more than some...dumb old computer or a book he found in the woods. Got it?"

"But he wanted to find the Author more than _anything!_ And I—"

"Mr. Pines?"

They both turned to see Soos standing at the stairs, looking unusually small. Stan looked down at the floor. "Jeez, can you give us a minute, Soos?"

"I'm sorry, it's just...your nephew finally called back."

Mabel covered her eyes with her fists. Stan's felt as though all of his veins had suddenly flooded with ice water.

"Yeah, tell him...tell him I'll be right there," he murmured.

* * *

Wendy didn't come to work the next day. She barely came out of her bedroom at all, in fact.

Her friends came over briefly, confirmed that the rumors going around town were true, but left soon after, not sure what else to say. After that, Wendy spent the most of the day sleeping. Occasionally loud, plaintive music drifted from behind her closed door.

Even her brothers seemed subdued. And the first time that they _did_ start to make a racket, their fight was immediately vetoed by their father, who screamed "QUIET! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT YOU'RE UPSETTING YOUR SISTER?!"

* * *

Mabel lay on the floor of her room, cuddled up next to Waddles. She was wearing a dirty T-shirt. She didn't have any sweaters to reflect how she was feeling.

Halfway through the day, Soos came up and left a sandwich on her bedside table. He tried to talk to her for a few minutes, but Mabel couldn't work up enough energy for more than short, one-word replies.

She kept staring over at Dipper's bed, at Dipper's books, at Dipper's backpack and his lantern. She would have to gather up his things eventually; after all, _he_ wouldn't be around to do it. He'd never hang that lantern back up on his wall at home. He'd never finish any of his stupid books. He'd never annoy her with his dumb hobbies, never keep her up all night clicking pens, never wake up in the bed beside hers, never fight her for the last pancake, never do _anything_ _ever_ again.

But the thing that kept drawing her attention the most was the "Mystery Board," his ever-changing mission statement for their stay in Gravity Falls. "WHO IS THE AUTHOR?" it asked in big, bold letters.

Dipper had wanted to know so badly. It had become his _life_ here.

And now, he'd never—

* * *

Unlike Wendy, Soos actually did come into work that day. He knew that the store wouldn't be open; he just didn't know what else to do with himself.

Between turning away a tour bus and sweeping up the floor for the third time in two hours, Soos kept answering the phone. He was surprised by how many sympathy calls they were getting—Candy and Grenda's parents, a few of Wendy's friends, Mabel's new guy-friend, the people from town who only _sort of_ hated Stan...each message that he took made Soos feel a little less messed-up inside. Dipper hadn't exactly been super-social, but it seemed like people in town really cared about what happened, even if they hadn't known him that well.

Near the end of the day, Soos approached the living room.

"Mr. Pines?"

Stan was sitting in his chair in front of the TV, but obviously not watching it. He was still wearing his clothes from the previous night. He slowly swirled the drink in his hand, giving Soos the softest possible grunt of acknowledgement.

"I know Dipper's parents are taking him and Mabel back home for uh...you know. The funeral. But I was thinking...maybe we could do some kind of memorial thing here? A lot of people in town seem to really miss the little dude."

Stan was silent for so long, Soos wondered if he needed to repeat himself. "I don't know, Soos."

"I think...I think Dipper would have wanted it," he persisted. "And, you know...it might make all of us feel a little better or something."

"Fine. Go ahead, then. Just leave me out of it."

Soos flinched, though Stan's voice was calm, and then nodded. "O...okay, then, Mr. Pines. If you say so."

He started to go, when suddenly Stan asked, "How long do you think it'll take to plan?" Soos turned. "Mabel has to leave the day after tomorrow...even sooner, if her parents can find a way to fly back to Piedmont before then."

"Uh...I-I don't know. I've never really done anything like this before. But I can try to get it done by then."

"We probably won't be seeing Mabel around anymore," Stan mumbled, clearly talking more to himself than Soos. "I doubt her parents will want her coming back after this...heck, I wouldn't be surprised if they never want to speak to me again. I took their son away from them, after all. It seems like my family keeps on shrinking..." He took a long, shuddering breath. "None of them deserve anything like this..."

Soos opened like his mouth like he was going to say something, but no sound came out; instead he looked down at his feet and slunk out of the room.

* * *

Candy was hugging Mabel, and Grenda was hugging the both of them. Mabel barely noticed how much it hurt.

"It will be okay, Mabel. I promise," Candy said, even as she was crying herself.

"H-how?! How could this _ever_ be okay?!" Mabel sobbed. "This is all my fault!"

"No it's not! It's _his_ fault for jumping off the water tower!"

" _Grenda!_ "

"What?! Was I being too honest again?"

"The Dipper I know wouldn't do something like this! He always seemed so _happy_ underneath all his seething awkwardness and stress. I didn't realize that ignoring him would be enough to make him want to _die!_ "

Mabel slowly pulled away from Candy and curled up on the floor again. Her voice was so thick that it was hard for her to even speak. "Dipper and I have spent our whole lives together, and these last two days without him have been the worst in the entire world! How am I supposed to get through the rest of my _life_ like this?!"

Candy bit her lip. "If I ask my mother and father, maybe they'll let me move back to Piedmont with you. Then I could dress in Dipper's old clothes and be your new brother instead!"

She sniffled. "It means a lot that you'd offer," she mumbled, "but it just wouldn't be the same."

* * *

Soos' eyes were blurry; he'd barely slept the night before. All the photos that he was flipping through were starting to blend together.

"I kind of like this one. We took that the day we went fishing. That was a...really nice day at the end."

"Is that the one you want to go with?"

"Maybe. I—he's making a face. Is that—like, disrespectful or something? I want him to look _happy,_ but I don't want...like, sh-should I pick a different one?"

"It's up to you," Mrs. Valentino said kindly.

"Maybe you'd like to ask someone in the deceased's family?" her husband added.

Before Soos could answer, the door to the Mystery Shack opened. He rose in surprise as Wendy shuffled in. She was carrying a box in her arms.

"Oh, Wendy! I, uh—wasn't expecting to see you in today."

"Yeah, I...just wanted to drop off some things that Mabel and Dipper left at my house," she murmured, putting the box on the counter without meeting his eye. "Plus I wanted to say goodbye...heard she was leaving town tomorrow..."

"Yeah...she's upstairs with Candy and Grenda right now. Hey, real quick could you help me with this? We're trying to pick out a photo for the memorial and I'm really having some trouble."

"I don't—" Wendy began, but Soos was already standing in front of her with his laptop now. On screen was an enlarged picture of Dipper, sticking out his tongue and pulling one eye.

"Okay, so there's _this_ one, which might be a bit too silly...or this one, but it's kind of not silly enough?" he said, flipping to another. "Then _this_ one has Mabel in it too, and I'm not sure if that makes it better or worse?"

Wendy wanted to look away, but forced her eyes to stay on the screen. "Could you...go back to the second one?"

The second photo reappeared; Wendy stared. This one looked as though someone had taken Dipper by surprise, giving him only a second or two to pose—his hand was raised as though waving, and his face showed only a half-smile, one of those little sideways grins that he might have worn when he was doing nothing more than reading or watching TV.

"I like that one. It looks more—natural, I guess, than the others. It really...looks like him, you know? Like how he usually was. Just a...dumb, awkward little kid, but still...happy, and... _oh, man,_ I—I'm sorry, I—"

She covered her face with one hand and began to sob. Almost instantly Soos had dropped the computer on top of her box and wrapped her in a bear hug.

The Valentinos rose from their seats. "I think we need a break," Mr. Valentino said, his tone soft but still oddly cheerful. "Janice, let's go get those flower samples from the car..."

They bustled out of the kitchen as Soos rubbed Wendy's back. "It's okay," he murmured. "Cry into my soft, manly shoulder."

"I'm sorry," she repeated, laying her cheek against his shirt. "I just—I swear, this is the worst thing _ever._ I know we only knew him for a month or two, but I feel like I lost one of my little brothers or something."

"Yeah...I know what you mean."

"And I just...I just don't _get it!_ " Wendy suddenly reached behind Soos and pounded her fist on the counter. "How could this happen?! He was _twelve!_ Didn't he realize—he had his whole life ahead of him, Soos! Why would he—you don't think it was..."

Her voice was becoming tearful again, but she seemed to freeze up in his arms. Soos drew back slightly so that he could look her in the face. "What?"

"Well...you know he kind of had a...you know, a _thing_ for me, right? We had a talk about it the other day, and I...I just sort of wonder if...maybe..."

"Whoa! No way, dude!" Soos said, shaking his head. "Dipper told me that you gave him, like, the nicest turning-down ever! I mean—I'm _sure_ that it didn't have anything to do with that. Okay?"

"Well, it had to have come from _something!_ " Wendy pulled away and turned around, hugging herself. "And he was acting so... _weird_ before the show. Didn't you notice?"

"Not really. I mean—he seemed perfectly happy to me."

"Yeah, but—not _normal_ happy. He was, like...weirdly manic. And I swear, he kept _flirting_ with me. Dipper wasn't subtle, but he never _flirted._ " Wendy shook her head. "Could he have...been on _drugs_ or something? _Ugh,_ I feel stupid even saying it, but...I just don't understand," she said, her voice cracking. "I just can't connect the Dipper I knew to the one at the show to the one who...who just..."

She sniffled, fished a wad of tissue from her pocket and wiped her eyes. "Is my makeup running?"

"Uh...yeah, a little."

"I normally don't even wear makeup, but I can't stop crying and I didn't want Mabel to see me like this. She must be going through enough as it is. I don't think I've cried this much since my mom died."

"I never cried when my mom died," Soos said, surprising himself; Wendy gave him a startled look. "Or for my grandpa or Dipper either. I just...sort of stand around feeling numb and useless, you know?"

"You're not useless," Wendy muttered. "Look at you, planning this whole memorial by yourself." She put away her tissue. "Do you need any more help?"

"Actually, I could use your advice about what flowers to get. I'm not sure what kind screams 'teenage boy.'"

He was being serious, of course, but Wendy let out a dry, stuttering laugh that quickly gave way to hiccups.

* * *

Dipper couldn't stand this anymore.

Nobody could see him. Nobody could hear him. As far as they were concerned, he was gone. And worse, they thought that he'd left them on purpose.

And now the yard in front of the Mystery Shack was filling up with people. It looked like just about everyone in town was there—Wendy came with the rest of her family, Soos with his grandmother, Sheriff Blubs and Deputy Durland, Lazy Susan, Toby Determined...Mr. and Mrs. Gleeful, probably just to keep up appearances, but Robbie had even shown up with the rest of Wendy's friends, while Pacifica sat alone, both of them with unreadable expressions. Everyone was wearing dark clothes and mournful faces.

And there, standing on an easel in front of the whole congregation, was a blown-up picture of _him,_ the very same one that Wendy had picked out the day before. Dipper flew over as Old Man McGucket (wrapped in a black poncho over his usual overalls) stood regarding it. He reached out to try and touch either of them, but of course his hand passed through both the man and the photo. He sighed as McGucket turned and walked through him, muttering wistfully under his breath.

Dipper didn't have a heart anymore, but he could feel it breaking. He didn't have a stomach, but somehow he felt sick. How could he stand to watch the townsfolk crying their eyes out over him? And these were people he barely knew—he was horrified to be around his friends, Grunkle Stan, _Mabel_. His mind was full of images of his mother crying, his father cradling his broken body—where even _was_ his body? Still in the Gravity Falls morgue? Had they sent it back to Piedmont already? Right now were strangers moving it, dressing it up, treating it like a lifeless puppet just as casually as Bill had?

"What am I going to _do?!_ " Dipper suddenly screamed, burying his face in his hands. "Am I supposed to just—haunt the Mystery Shack forever?! Go back home and watch Mabel and Mom and Dad—spend the rest of their lives thinking that I—not even realizing how much I want to..."

He floated down to the ground, barely noticing as Mr. Poolcheck stepped through him. He only looked up when he heard Wendy yelling from nearby.

"What do you _mean_ he's not coming?! Does he just not CARE that his nephew is dead?!"

"Of course he cares!" Soos exclaimed, and to Dipper's surprise he sounded angry too. "I walked on him crying like a baby this morning! But he can barely stand to hear Dipper's _name_ right now! He's just—trying to avoid all this. Cut him some slack, okay?"

Wendy was silent for a long moment. "What about Mabel?"

"She was still sleeping the last time I checked. But we've gotta start soon or she won't be ready when her parents arrive."

* * *

Mabel was sleeping. But she wasn't alone.

"You're—you're _lying!_ " Mabel accused, though there was a note of desperate hope in her voice. "Dipper really _is_ dead...Grunkle Stan saw his body and everything!"

"Come on, Shooting Star, think of all the things that you've seen in this town! Living wax mannequins...shapeshifters...clones." Bill's body became a screen, displaying each of the oddities in turn. "You don't think some creature around here could fake something like this? You really want to believe that your brother just offed himself instead?"

Mabel wrung her hands together. Bill was evil...but if he was telling the truth...

"What do you want?"

"All I want is a puppet! You seem to have plenty to spare," he said, giving a casual wave to the socks that littered the room.

"One puppet? And then...you'll tell me what really happened to Dipper?"

"Sure! In fact, I'll even show you where he is! Seems to me like one little puppet is a small price to pay to see your beloved brother again." Bill turned around, his large, mocking eye locking onto Mabel longing face. "So what do you say?" he asked, extending a flaming hand. "Do we have a deal?"

 **THE END**


End file.
